


We are a woven thread

by leigh57



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leigh57/pseuds/leigh57
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The expression of guilt and regret on her face was so reminiscent of her father in that exact moment that Carol could feel a warm ache of love expanding through her chest and up into her cheeks, the kind that made her wonder, sometimes, how that much insane devotion managed to stay contained within her and not just explode from the inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are a woven thread

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the [USS Caryl’s Emotion Fanfiction/Fanart Challenge](http://uss-caryl.tumblr.com/post/74539545765/the-uss-caryls-emotions-fanfiction-fanart-challenge). The emotion I chose is "gratitude." The story doubles as a response to the one word prompts I asked for on tumblr. This one is "blanket," for [Ralyse](ralyse.tumblr.com).
> 
> So many thanks to [adrenalin211](adrenalin211.tumblr.com) for doing the world's quickest beta and being a totally fantastic cheerleader:)
> 
> The story title is taken from Vienna Teng's "In the Breaking Light." It's such a beautiful song. Also, a warning. If you do not like kid!fic or squash, please move along, because there is absolutely nothing to see here. The more depressed about the show I get, the more stuff like this comes out. What are you gonna do? So if you read on, remember that this story contains a warning for diabetic shock;)
> 
> Oh! And in case anyone is interested, Adrienne and I always cast our kidfics. [This is what Grace looks like.](http://www.fanpop.com/clubs/babies/images/4613727/title/cute-toddler-girl-photo)

_________________________

"Mommy. Mom. Mom. _Mommy!_ "

Carol jolted from the half-doze she'd finally sunk into to the sticky heat of two small sweaty hands on her forearm and the sound of a juicy, wheezing cough. She opened her eyes, squinting until her daughter's tear-filled blue-green eyes and damp, dark blond hair stopped wiggling in her vision and snapped into focus. "Grace, baby, didn't I just tuck you back in-" She tried to think, exhaustion numbing her responses, slowing her connection speed. "Maybe half an hour ago?"

Grace nodded and hiccuped, which sent her into another fit of sharp violent coughing that rattled her chest and brought even more tears into her eyes. Carol couldn't help but grin a tiny bit when she saw just how hard the three-year-old was trying to follow the "cover your mouth with your elbow when you cough" rule.

(People could say whatever they wanted about Daryl, but he was _determined_ that his daughter would be raised with every inch of the manners and class no one had ever had the time or the motivation to teach him. _Want her to grow up like you, not me_ , he'd mumbled in the dark late one night when Grace was only a couple weeks old, when they couldn't sleep for more than two hours at a time without miniature wails starting their telltale crescendo. Carol had pulled him closer, stretching her arm over his chest so she could tuck her hand beneath his ribs on the other side. _You might wanna wait until she can sit up before you start insisting she says, "Please" and "Thank you,"_ she'd teased, closing her eyes and exhaling into the warmth of his chest. But after a second, she'd added, _Besides, I can think of a hundred ways I hope she's exactly like you._ He'd started to say, _Can't see why you'd even-_ when Grace had let out a cry and ended the conversation.)

Carol shoved the covers back and grabbed for the canteen Daryl had set by the bed. "Breathe for a second, honey. Then try to take a sip of this."

Still clutching her mom's arm, Grace did as she was told, swallowing a few times and inhaling as slowly as she could while the coughing attack subsided. After a second, she reached for the canteen and took several gulps from the metal container, then looked at Carol, eyes wide and voice quavery. "Where's Daddy?"

"He walked over to see if Glenn and Maggie have any cough medicine left." She sighed, pulling up the tank top strap that had slid off her shoulder. "Somebody's gonna have to make a run in the morning. Judy's coming down with it, too."

"I know. 'S'my fault," whispered Grace, looking at the floor, "'Cause we share our bedroom." The expression of guilt and regret on her face was so reminiscent of her father in that exact moment that Carol could feel a warm ache of love expanding through her chest and up into her cheeks, the kind that made her wonder, sometimes, how that much insane devotion managed to stay contained within her and not just explode from the inside.

Shaking her head, she reached out and pulled the tiny feverish body into her lap, breathing in the smell of Vicks (hugely expired, but it still seemed to help some), dish detergent that presently doubled as shampoo, and the sweat that coated Grace's forehead and temples. "No, it is _not_ your fault, and I want you to stop thinking that right now, please." Grace had begun to shiver, so Carol grabbed behind her for a blanket and wrapped it snug around her daughter's body, tucking it under her quivering chin before she continued. "It's just a virus, and both you and Judy are gonna be fine in a couple days, okay?"

Grace gave a halfhearted nod and snuggled closer, tucking her head into the space between Carol's chin and her shoulder. "I'm so sleepy. Will you hug me while-"

The thud of boots on the front porch cut her off, followed by the metallic click of locks being slid back into place. Daryl appeared in the doorway a few seconds later. He held up a bottle that glowed a scary orange in the dim light and said, a little out of breath, "They had some. Last bottle, but it should be enough for you and Asskicker tonight." He strode over and crouched down, opening the bottle and then pulling a spoon out of his shirt pocket. "Y'know this stuff tastes like crap, right Gracie?" He narrowed his eyes to read the dosage instructions on the bottle.

Grace shrank back against her mom. "I don't wan' it if it's yucky!" Her fingers gripped the blanket Carol had wound around her, and even the small sob she gave up sent her into yet another fit, her body trembling as she tried to breathe and cough at the same time.

Carol looked at Daryl, his face pale, jaw set. He'd seen pretty much everything over the past seven years, but his three-year-old cupcake with a nasty tenacious cough was enough to put him five feet away from a full-blown anxiety attack. She could see him thinking, mapping out the best way to convince their daughter to swallow the viscous orange glop without a fight. His hand gripped the spoon until his knuckles went white; Carol thought how she should really find some kind of Vaseline or _something_ for those awful red cracks. After another second, he said, marshaling the best forced casual Carol had heard in a long time, "If you swallow this crud down without a fuss, as soon as your fever's gone, I'll take you huntin' with me and let you see what you can do with Asskicker’s crossbow."

Carol glared at him, but said nothing, and found herself more amused than she wanted to be when he refused to make eye contact. 

Grace pulled her head out of her mom's neck and sat up straight, regarding her father with bright fascinated eyes. "Really? You _promise_?"

"Promise. Ain’t never gone back on one, right?"

Grace shook her head, releasing the blanket and wiping her sweaty hands on it. 

Daryl held the spoon level and poured out the syrup, holding it out to his daughter. "'Take this, one quick swallow, and you're done."

Without even hesitating, Grace opened her mouth, gulped down the medicine, gave a hilariously dramatic shiver in Carol's arms, and announced, "Yuck! It’s all stuck in my mouth!"

Daryl grinned. "You did it though. And in a couple minutes you're gonna feel better." This time he did look at Carol, his eyes shining with satisfaction; she just rolled hers and shook her head, half at how ridiculous he was and half at her own inability to resist him. Ever.

He dropped down on the bed beside them, working the laces on his boots. Grace wiggled in Carol's lap to reposition herself and said, her voice getting softer and sleepier by the second, "Can I stay here tonight? It's all warm and I wanna cuddle."

Carol sighed. "Gracie, we _talked_ about this. You're big enough to sleep in your own bed now."

"I know. I _promise_ I will tomorrow night, or Daddy doesn't have to take me hunting when I'm better." She wriggled out of Carol's lap and plopped into Daryl's, the blanket still haphazardly wrapped around her tiny form, which at least had stopped shivering. "Asides," she whispered, conspiratorial. "If I stay here, Daddy'll tell me stories until I go to sleep like he does when you're out on watch."

Carol bit her cheek to keep from smiling and raised an eyebrow at Daryl. "Oh is _that_ why you're always so sound asleep when I come back?" Daryl held her gaze, his green eyes amused, jaw twitching.

Suddenly, Grace's eyes widened. "Was I not supposed to tell?"

Daryl scoffed and kissed the top of her head. "'Course not, sweetheart. Your mama's only pretending to be mad anyway. She thinks it's cute, I swear."

Carol kicked his shin, light. "Smartass."

"Oh, now who's teachin' her bad stuff?"

Grace giggled, wrapping her small arms around Daryl's neck. "So you'll tell me a story then?"

He nodded, shoving off the second boot and scooting up toward the pillow with Grace still in his arms. He winked at Carol. "You gonna listen, too?"

"You are _such_ a sucker." 

"Maybe." He looked at Carol, eyes suddenly warm and bright and serious. "But not just for her."

After all this time, after _everything_ , how the hell could he still do that to her, say one simple sentence that made her breath catch and her cheeks flush? She blinked and reached out for his hand that rested on the bed, wrapping his chapped knuckles in a warm squeeze. Clearing her throat, she said, "Let me past you guys then. Hop in the middle, pumpkin."

Carol settled her back against the wall while Grace squished herself down into the covers between her parents. Daryl stripped off his t-shirt and yanked on a clean one, then crawled in too, smoothing his daughter's damp hair away from her face. "You got three choices. The bear, the girl who lost her crossbow, or the squirrels who live in the cabin on a mountain.”

_________________________


End file.
